Chapter Six
Heath looked forher the moment he entered the ballroom. He wasn’t surprised to see her surrounded by people. She usually gathered a crowd of women, but this time, there was an equal number of men seeking her hand.
Damn. He should have come earlier but finding a new nurse for his girls had been a time-consuming affair. He needed a wife soon, if only to help with these matters.
His gaze traveled the sea of wallflowers. He had plenty of wealth, so he had no need for money. He could find an acceptably demure and respectable wife among the neglected and forgotten. What he looked for in a woman was not the flashy wildness so attractive to youth, but a steady hand and a faithful heart.
Unfortunately, the only woman he wanted was Miss Allen. This was a startling realization for him. Certainly, she’d consumed his thoughts from their first introduction two seasons ago. He thought her wild and reckless, and told himself that only an immature boy wanted such a woman. He was a mature man with children, so he had kept tabs on her without actively pursuing her.
Until fate had brought them together again. Since the night they’d both punched Eddie, he’d thought of her nearly nonstop. What a vibrant woman she was, unabashedly practical and yet so idealistic as to discipline errant men as Lady Vengeance.
Such a contradiction intrigued him, captivated him. And how he longed to know her more intimately.
Finally he spotted her across the ballroom. Her hair was tied back in a demure style, but her gown clung to her curves like a second skin. She hadn’t dampened her skirts like a demimonde, but she wore a flesh-colored fichu that did nothing to preserve modesty. Indeed, her bodice drew his eye and roused his cock. Or it did, until he maneuvered closer to her.
She did not look well.
Her skin was pale, and her expression fixed. He was used to seeing her face animated with whatever emotion filled her. She was a woman of fiery passion, and yet tonight she seemed defeated. And that made him furious.
Who or what could see her diminished? Whatever it was, he vowed to destroy it immediately.
He stepped forward, doing the pretty with every lady present. It was tedious bowing and greeting every soul there when all he wanted to do was to whisk Miss Allen away for a private conversation, but he couldn’t very well show that kind of partiality in public. People would assume he intended to wed her and that would destroy her chances with anyone else.
He forced himself to be patient.
Finally, he was able to bow over her hand. Did she tense at that? Was she afraid of him? Why?
He spoke calmly to reassure her. He requested a waltz as he’d promised. She’d kept the first and the last free for him. And damn it, it irked him that her card was otherwise full, though the thought was irrational.
He’d wanted to make her popular. He’d even spoken with Prinny about it, and he expected her to receive a royal invitation soon. That gave her a reasonable chance of attracting a husband—one who would understand her need to see women and children protected. She would do what was required whetherthat meant confronting Lord Luddican in a back garden or climbing a tree to save Lacy. It all amounted to the same thing, and he admired a woman who thought nothing of such risks.
In short, he admired her, and he did not like the list of blighters and ne’er-do-wells that filled her dance card.
“Are you well this evening, Miss Allen?” he asked.
“Quite well,” she answered flatly. “And you?”
“Well.”
“And your children?”
“Asking about you. They want to see the lady who climbs trees.”
Her expression shifted into one of fondness. “They should come to Scotland then, where nearly every child climbs.”
He gave a false shudder. “My heart couldn’t withstand the sight.”
“Children are sturdier than we think. Though I admit that I would be terrified by some of the things my brothers and I did. We didn’t know the risks.”
“I pity your mother.”
“You would be the only one.”
He was startled by her dry tone. “Was she as formidable as you?”
She turned to him, her expression cold. “She was angry, bitter, and cold. After Da abandoned us, she worked the farm until she was hurt.” She bit her lip. “She was formidable then, I suppose. It was the horse that did it. It kicked her, probably because she was whipping it. She had a temper. But once she couldn’t walk right, all that fury turned on us.”
“Us?”
